Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Although you had expected it, you never thought that this day would come so soon.

It was like a dream: the most beautiful dream of your life was smashed in your face in such a straightforward and rude way that even the Primarch had to be shocked. When everything started to work, you realized belatedly what was waiting for you.

Family, honor, trust, power...

Maybe, there are more: but now you have no energy to be distracted.

You woke up from a dream, confused, and the memories of the past few hours or even days were mixed into a mess in your mind, like a sandwich that was smashed to the ground and stepped on again and again with leather shoes. You can't pick out even a trace of pure color: What have you done in the past few days? The answer to the question may be harder to find than lettuce blown away by the wind.

You only remember that since the last group of mortal auxiliary troops from a distant front whose name you can't even remember passed by the iron platform of the Emperor and the Primarch, announcing the end of the parade that was gradually turning into an execution ceremony (you even heard Vulkan sighed with relief, forgetting to comfort the tired mortal soldiers), you have never had even a slightly normal rest time.

There is still a lot of work to do.

And it's worth it: at least you think it's worth it now.

In the next few days, you rushed around, you were busy, you kept toasting and chatting with all kinds of people, filling every precious hour with a pair of eyes immersed in power and flattery, Sejanus and Mahlost took turns following behind you, the electronic boards and recorders in their arms were always rustling, and every name and schedule on it controlled your body, just like a puppeteer controlling his work.

You thank them for their efforts and their outstanding abilities. If they hadn't reminded you, you would never have remembered so many names and titles: God knows how many people you have met and how much shamelessness and greed you have forced yourself to endure. Compared with these mortals, the meeting with Guilliman and Morgan a few days ago seemed relaxed and pleasant.

And Mortarion?

Oh! His stinky mouth! In comparison, he looks like a lovely angel!

In comparison, your blood brothers may be ambitious, greedy, and petty, but their smiles and faces can at least make you breathe easier. You don't have to pretend to know their pitiful achievements and pasts, nor do you have to distinguish those faces that have become more and more unbearable due to excessive life extension surgery and beautification projects.

God knows how you didn't pull out the World Breaker in front of those smiling faces that didn't even have a bit of human quality.

All of this disgusts you, whether it is socializing or trading, or even the power behind it, but you still hold them tightly, clearly recognizing and saying everyone's name: they came from all over the Empire, just to complete the last flattery in front of your father before he returns to Terra in vain.

And the stupidest among them actually think that they can change your mind. This is the worst problem caused by the establishment of the High Lord system. Now: any leader who comes from anywhere thinks that he can make decisions about the Empire and the Great Crusade, especially those bastards from Terra, who regard the victory of the High Lord as their own victory, and they are almost arrogant.

You despise these people, not only because of their ugliness, but also because the reason they can occupy high positions is not because of their ability and merit, but because of their origin and their unscrupulous meanness: but you have to admit that even among these dirty rocks, there are still uncut gems that can attract people's attention.

Their status comes from courage, wisdom and faith: although they are mortals, you respect them from the bottom of your heart.

These names are forever engraved on the electronic board of Marlowhurst. Although you have already memorized them, you still read and memorize them over and over again until you can tell their honorable positions and experiences anytime and anywhere: they often have what you need.

You talk with the military lord, the commander-in-chief of the imperial mortal auxiliary army, and the supreme naval lord like brothers, because you know that they are the arms that the Emperor relies on most, and each of them holds the human and transportation resources that you lack most now. If you really want to use blood and fire to clean up the wolf kingdom given to you by the Emperor, then the friendship between them must be as strong as steel.

You talked with the Consul and the General Manager of the Star Language Court and representatives of various psychic institutions and societies in the empire for a whole night, because you need to establish your image in their minds and get the information you need indirectly: you have always been weak in psychic power. Although these representatives and lords are numerous and talkative, as long as the intelligence base collected is large enough, they can always deduce valuable clues.

The so-called infiltration methods and agent skills in those mortal movies are deceptive after all. The real intelligence operation is based on massive information collection and scientific screening methods. The real agent will only walk in the cocktail parties and street alleys like you, instead of walking on the tightrope among a bunch of infrared rays.

And the ones who need you, the Wolf God, to take it so seriously are naturally the other Primarchs.

For example, your blood relative Morgan, who is entrenched in the Far East: what kind of person is she? Which disguise is closest to her true self? What does she think about the future of the Empire and the Primarch? Can she stand on your side?

These are all unknowns, and they are all key points worth your personal attention.

Rumors are no longer credible, because any verbal remarks can be manipulated, but in any case, a person's career as life can definitely show her true character and inner thoughts, and this little trick is easy for you to use.

The think tank plan and the psychic code that the Spider Queen has been promoting for decades are the best examples: you carefully collected all the efforts Morgan made in constructing these two psychic systems, and how she made each move, and prepared to deduce the Spider Queen's inner thoughts from this, so as to decide how to get along with her.

This is a very important matter: seeing that the Emperor is about to leave, the conflict between Terra and the Far East is already on the verge of breaking out. If you want to benefit from their tit-for-tat, you must have a good understanding of their leadership, and Morgan is obviously the core of the three kings of the Far East.

Although you believe that Guilliman's ambition is the reason why the Far Eastern kings are becoming more and more eccentric, the position of the Macragge people in the overall foreign policy of the Far East is obviously not as good as the Spider Queen who is good at dealing with people: they must have their own division of labor, and Morgan occupies the position with the most foreign voice.

Her opinion is crucial.

So, you have to be quick: the next visit to Morgan is on the agenda.

But not now.

Because in addition to this, the meeting with Mars's Forging General Kalbohar, and countless Titan Legion Commanders and Knight Family Patriarchs with whom you have a deep connection, is the most important, because you can get the full support of tens of thousands of steel behemoths in the friendship with the latter two, and in the conversation with the Mars Forging General, the other party's obvious solicitation is also pleasant.

You are not stupid enough to run errands for Karl Bohar willingly just because of his hints, but considering the future situation, it is always a good thing to let Mars prioritize the goods ordered by your legion in the production sequence when using its huge production capacity.

For example, the latest power armor of Mark IV: the Luna Wolf Legion must be the first to complete the whole equipment. This is what the Forge General promised you. In return, you promised that the future Wolf Kingdom will open the door to Mars' fleet and let them pass freely.

It is easy to imagine: these guys will definitely go to trouble Riza.

It's a pleasure to see, isn't it?

But this pleasant cooperation does not mean that you have to rely on Mars completely. Behind the smile, you have actually scheduled a conversation with representatives of the Forge World, including Goth, Mezoa and Lucius. These Omnissiah believers scattered in the Wolf Kingdom are the forces you really need to win over. If their production and military power can be unified, they will not lose to Mars and Riza at all.

You have the confidence to do this, because the Wolf Kingdom given to you by the Emperor may seem remote and dangerous, but it is also vast and fertile. As long as you are willing to calm down and work hard, you can certainly use countless resources and achievements to win over a behemoth that is no less than Morgan's Far East Industrial Alliance: you know that your sister tamed her allies with generosity and means, and you believe that you can do the same.

As for taming the Forge World completely into his subordinates like Guilliman?

Well... I can't learn it, I can't learn it...

Such ambitious means are not something that a simple-minded person like you can do.

Moreover, you don't need to worry.

In the past battles, relying on the long years and the Emperor's appreciation, you have been able to form a friendship with countless Titan Legions and Knight Families to fight side by side. Their conservative and traditional values ​​are conquered by your personal charm. Their patriarchs kneel to you in private and perform the etiquette of a vassal. You know that you can count on their strength in any battle. If we only talk about the number of these steel behemoths, you may not have less than Mars.

As far as you know, Morgan is not as good as you in this regard: at least she has no powerful knight family serving under her.

Of course, your newly-minted friends on Mars do not need to know these little things.

When the team of the Forging General left with satisfaction, this series of long conversations also entered the most tedious and tiring stage: you even deliberately went to meet several of your brothers in advance, and released your fatigue in the conversation with them. After all, the next person you are going to meet is the insect you hate the most in your heart.

Planetary governors, sector lords, fleet masters, auxiliary legion commanders, plenipotentiary consuls of powerful departments, and private representatives of some bigwigs who could not come...

Every part and every tentacle in the huge bureaucracy of the Human Empire involuntarily moved closer to you, lured by the title of Warmaster, eager to see you, the newly-minted next helmsman of the entire Great Crusade. Behind their respectful smiles are their own thoughts, and they are even too lazy to hide them.

You have to admit that these people are indeed capable: it would be much better if they had not used all of their unique abilities in scheming, conspiracy, betrayal and fighting for power.

You meet them: the more you meet, the more you despise them.

It's really strange. After meeting these outstanding mortals, you are more aware of the powerful strength and superb wisdom contained in the collective of mortals, but you don't appreciate them for this. Instead, you despise the concept of mortals as a whole: there are indeed excellent ones among them, many excellent ones, but the impurities of others are so many that even these excellent ones can't turn back.

Even these excellent people themselves are full of impurities: talent and corruption are not incompatible.

You can't help but sigh: sigh for the naive shepherd wolf god decades ago.

You can't understand: in just a few decades, in just a moment, the power system that you and your father left for the entire human empire and the Great Crusade, which was originally clean and efficient, has been corroded and riddled with holes. You just handed over power and obligations to these people who believed in the past, or their elders, but in the next step, they threw away their previous oaths and the worship of their meritorious elders, and then one by one became hateful beasts.

Became the bastards that you and the Emperor would rather bleed to defeat.

Is this the human empire under Malcador's rule?

Father: Do you really want to give the empire you built together to these people?     Once again, you feel confused.

You have been confused many times before, as early as decades ago, when rumors about the Warmaster and the Emperor's retirement appeared together, you were confused, confused, and angry about it, but all these were useless: until today, such emotions have never been so strong.

You have seen so many mortal elites as described by Malcador. The ritual of Ullanor is an opportunity that has never been available before. You have witnessed their abilities and greed, their beliefs and sins. You do not deny that each of them is indeed a dragon among men. You can only despise their personality rather than their ability, but you also realize more and more clearly that these people, at least a considerable number of them, are unable to die for the defense of the Emperor or the Empire.

"..."

How ridiculous!

They! They obviously hold the highest power in the entire human empire, and have resources and treatment that are thousands of times better than those of the warriors fighting on the front line. However, even if they are only competing for the most basic one, a standard that is not even used as a test standard for the warriors on the front line, [loyalty to the Emperor], it is so rare for these guys in power.

Does your father really think it is safe to hand over his empire to these people?

You can't help but think of the moment when your father told you this decision. It was a moment you often dreamed of, and it was your increasingly rare and precious time alone.

You are certainly not blind. In your father's pupils, you saw an emotion he had never had before, a kind of dream with desire, close to ideal: although you still don't understand why, it is obvious that handing over the empire to these mortals to govern is your father's biggest dream at this time.

You will not disobey him.

Although you are very unwilling.

And this is also the biggest reason why you have never clearly opposed this matter.

Malcador, this fool, thought that he was limiting your dissatisfaction with mortal politics by constraints and power? Did he ever think that you had never fought at all: for the dream you saw in your father's pupils, you endured the great humiliation given to you by the seal holder.

May he be burned in the fire.

You can only convince yourself, convince yourself to believe the words of the Emperor and Malcador: those high lords who are personally selected by the Sigillite to control and manage the highest power of the Empire are all rare and outstanding people, and are capable of shouldering the entire Empire. But after you spent a long time meeting powerful officials from all over the Empire, such self-deception was finally shaken.

Completely shaken.

Because you soon realized a deadlock in it.

You have never met the high lords, you don’t know what their abilities are, you can only selectively believe Malcador’s conclusion: although the old man is annoying, his ability and attitude are unquestionable, and you know very well that he can indeed select the best talents.

But now, a new question is lingering in your heart: look at these powerful governors from all over the empire, look at these frontier officials who control the various important power joints of the empire, each of them can easily influence hundreds of worlds and more people, they only need to use a sentence or a fantasy, they can easily destroy an entire expedition fleet that takes a whole generation of effort.

As long as a fool has a new palace in his mind, or something else that only mortals need, he will use his power to collect taxes and force countless worlds to revolt: the efforts of an expedition fleet of millions of people ten years ago will be wasted.

It is this group of people who represent the joints and muscles of the entire Galactic Empire. Any order of the Supreme Lord needs them to implement and guarantee. They are the most important. They should be outstanding, efficient, honest, responsible and enterprising: you are even too lazy to emphasize this basic requirement of loyalty.

But look at these people again.

Among them, how many can meet these standards? Their pedantry and greed cannot even be covered up by amazing acting skills. Even if you can really convince yourself that those high lords are amazing talents, even if they can enact the best laws, how can these pathetic parasites ensure the implementation of laws and decrees?

Even orders cannot be implemented.

Even loyalty cannot be ensured.

Handing the empire to these people: What is the difference between letting it self-destruct?

And watching everything you and your father have worked so hard to build burn like this?

"..."

This idea occupied your heart and has been lingering ever since.

It was also under its urging that, although your spirit and senses were extremely exhausted after meeting the above-mentioned dignitaries, you still forced yourself to invite the next group of people without stopping, asking Malohurst to invite the next group of people: a group of guys who should not be qualified to meet you, but they have an important position in your future plans.

These people are also governors, but they are not as powerful as their colleagues. They come from the most desolate worlds, either a newly occupied colony or a backward world that cannot produce laser rifles on its own. But they have one thing in common: their countries are all located in the north of the Milky Way without exception. They will become your new governors in the future.

They will be your arms to rule the entire Wolf Kingdom.

Among these people, only a few came to Ullanor. They were so low in status that they could not even be present as spectators in the subsequent Nikaea Conference. They were naturally grateful for your reception. You took out your already perfect posture and etiquette, listened to their words appropriately, and at the same time, with the help of Sejanus and Malohurst, carefully observed your pending subordinates.

Their abilities, their personalities, their loyalty, and whether their words and thoughts are sincere: you didn't want to rush to this step, but after the first large-scale contact with the [mortal elites] in the empire, the urgency in your heart finally prevailed.

And the fact is just as you thought: the identities and resumes of these newly established colonial governors are mostly clean and simple. They are either meritorious soldiers who have just retired, or explorers who have enough ability and ambition to lead a colonial fleet to travel far away.

You don't know if this is your subjective thoughts at work, but you feel that compared to those hinterland governors who have ancient heritage and are born to enjoy wealth and glory, these barbarian kings in remote places are more in line with your definition of excellent mortals: they even seem to be more loyal, perhaps because they are more aware of their situation and know that apart from the great emperor and the human empire, they have no one to rely on in this galaxy.

Unlike those mortals who had already surrendered to the Empire a hundred years ago, they may be afraid of the power of the Emperor, but they know nothing about their actual situation and the source of their power. They actually think that they have obtained such a status only by virtue of their noble blood: if there is an emergency in the Empire, a considerable number of these meritorious people will not stick to their solemn oaths.

Of course, there will be exceptions, and there will definitely be true loyalists, but in this matter, you should believe it.

Even the new governors in front of you who are more likable are no exception: they seem loyal now, but who knows what they will become in the future? Even if they themselves are not sick, what about their descendants who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths?

Those mortal governors who made you angry, their predecessors, and even many of them, were war heroes who could be rewarded by the Emperor himself.

These mortals who have not been blessed and transformed by gene seeds are ultimately fragile and fickle. They are not like you or the Astartes warriors. They do not have a firm spirit of loyalty and tenacity. This is also what you are most dissatisfied with the Emperor's mortal governance policy: in this galaxy that pursues ability, belief, tenacity and loyalty, the Astartes are obviously the best shepherds under the Emperor.

Why should he be in love with mortals?

He could obviously... choose you.

He should do so.

Maybe he just thought wrong, maybe he was just temporarily blinded, maybe he was just too close to Malcador and too far away from you, so he couldn't see the truth of the matter: or maybe he already knew it, but just didn't want to admit it, waiting for you to take the initiative to find him and ask him.

Just like before: this is a little secret between you and your father.

"..."

That's right: that's it

Maybe: maybe you should talk to him.

Tomorrow.

Just: the day he personally puts the crown of the Warmaster on your head.

It will be your day, and it will be his day.

A day for you and your son.

A good day.

…

You know the Emperor, you know your dearest father.

On such a good day, he will not refuse your request.